


For Your Greedy Heart

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Cum Eating, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Sexual Frustration, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: It's totally normal to notice your buddy, right? Especially when they're that good looking.





	1. Chapter 1

It was… it was kind of a game they played. 

A complicated game.

They didn’t talk about it, because it was a level of delicacy akin to a soap bubble, and Shane didn’t want to make it Weird.

But it was weird.

It had to be weird.

It started out as a joke, because these things always started out as jokes, especially between two jokesters like them. 

But they were sharing a hotel room, and there was Ryan, taking his shirt off and making his way towards the bathroom, and okay, maybe Shane’s eyes might have raked across the rippling muscles across Ryan’s back (oh fuck, the _rippling_ muscles, even in his mind he was scoffing at his romance novel phrasing), and maybe there might have been a bit of… stirring below the belt, but that was fine.

Shane was a bit sexually frustrated, a bit physically lonely, and it had been far too long since he’d had sex with another person, it had been far too long since someone else had just touched him…. 

But then Ryan had noticed Shane going quiet, and he’d turned around (oh god, Ryan’s shoulders were broad, his chest was built, he looked like he could be on the cover of an anatomy textbook, assuming the anatomy study was on weirdo ghost hunters), and he’d given Shane an appraising look.

“You like what you see?”

Ryan flexed.

“It’s alright,” Shane said, as if he wasn’t hard in his pajamas, as if he didn’t want to reach out and run his hands across every inch of Ryan’s smooth skin. 

“Just alright?”

Another flex, and now he was leaning against the doorframe, and okay, he looked more hammy than sexy, but god, Shane just wanted to sink his teeth into Ryan’s shoulders, and they were about to sleep together in the same crappy motel, and they were going to be in a quiet room… together.

Shane couldn’t be lying here with a boner, sweat dripping down his sides. 

He just… couldn’t.

“You gonna be in the bathroom long?”

He kept his tone light, and he was still looking at Ryan, as Ryan ran a hand through his hair, almost absentmindedly. 

God, it wasn’t fair that Ryan was so good looking. 

“Not too long, why?”

“Let me just, uh… I gotta go. Real quick.”

Shane pulled a sweater on, and he pulled it lower, tried to act natural, as if his face wasn’t pink, as if he wasn’t sweating. 

The sweater had a front pouch, and he shoved his hands into it, like a disaffected teen. 

Ryan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move away either.

Shane had to… shuffle past, and there was a moment where Ryan’s chest was against his back. 

Oh _fuck_ , no, that wasn’t fair.

Shane gently shoved Ryan out of the doorframe, and then he was… just leaning against the door, and he was shoving his pajama pants down, and he was wrapping his hand around his cock, beginning to stroke it desperately.

He had a hand over his mouth, to keep from moaning, and he was rolling his hips, fucking his fist.

Oh god.

He closed his eyes, and... he imagined Ryan on the other side of the door.

Ryan on the other side of the door, listening.

Or even… opening the door.

Ryan watching him.

Shane whimpered into his hand, and he kept jerking himself, jerked himself faster, and then his toes were curling in the bathmat.

Oh, fuck. 

Fuck, how would Ryan look at him?

Fuck, he wanted to kiss Ryan, but he wanted… he wanted Ryan to look at him. 

He’d want Ryan to watch him, because somehow the _wanting_ was almost… sweeter than the idea of getting what he wanted.

There was a knock on the door.

“Shane? You okay, big guy?”

And that was what sent Shane over the edge.

Hearing Ryan’s voice on the other side, so close and yet so far, and then the deep, throbbing pleasure was rolling across his back, the pressure deep in his belly snapping like a broken bone. 

His cum was sticky and wet against his palm, and his knees were going weak.

There wasn’t too much mess, at least - he licked some of his cum off of his fingers, just for the perversity of it, and the salty-bitter-sourness of it was enough to make his nose wrinkle. 

“Shane?”

“I’m fine,” Shane said. “Sorry. Just, uh… just give me a minute.”

He staggered upright, and then he turned the water on, washing his hands. 

He opened the bathroom door, and he smiled at Ryan.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. 

“You forgot to flush,” he told Shane. 

“Oh,” said Shane. 

But Ryan wasn’t saying anything else, just… elbowing Shane out of the way, and closing the door behind him.

Um. 

Fuck. 

Shane flopped onto the bed, and he cuddled up to the duvet. 

There was too much starch in the sheets, but… well, fuck.

He closed his eyes, and he tried to think about sleep.

It was dim - comfortingly so - and he let the exhaustion from a day of wandering around an empty warehouse sink into his bones.

Let the post-coital tingling finally take hold.

He rolled onto his side, curling up so that his feet didn’t dangle off the edge of the bed.

He could hear the sound of the shower turning on, and then the sound of a body in a shower, the water hitting skin.

The pipes groaned and moaned like someone in a BDSM porno, and the image of water running down Ryan’s body, beading across his belly, sheeting off of his back… oh _god_.

Shane groaned, pressing his face into his pillow.

He wasn’t as young as he used to be - he couldn’t have a boner again, so quickly.

In a weird way, that made it _worse_ ; his skin was too tight, almost itchy, the energy twitching along his nerves.

He couldn’t get comfortable, and his cock was trying to get hard.

Where had this even come from?

Sure, he’d noticed how good looking Ryan was, but, well… who wouldn’t?

Anyone with eyes could see how gorgeous Ryan was. 

But Shane had never gotten this… worked up over it.

Maybe it was the sexual frustration.

Since his last break up, he’d been pretty hands off. 

Hands off with everyone, but lately, desperate to be touched.

It was making him crazy. 

Maybe that was what it was.

He rolled flat onto his back, rubbing his eyes, and he tried to regulate his breathing, to calm himself down.

He could do this.

He was just a bit… pent up.

That was all.

He’d be fine.

It would all be fine.

He was aware of the bathroom door opening, a stab of light against his closed eyes, and then there was just the quiet sound of Ryan padding out of the bathroom, and then… Shane glanced over, saw that Ryan was naked in the darkness, illuminated by the neon sign behind their hotel curtains.

Shane could see the curve of Ryan’s ass, the vulnerable shadows of his hip bones, the dark hair around his groin.

And then Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan’s eyes, on Shane’s eyes, and Shane rolled over onto his other side, because… fuck.

Ryan didn’t say anything - there was another quiet sound, and then Ryan was climbing into his bed, and there was the subdued clicking of Ryan setting his phone alarm. 

Then Ryan was asleep.

Just like that.

Jerk.

Ryan could go to sleep whenever the fuck he wanted, when they weren’t in some spooky location. 

Shane sighed, a long, low sound, and he let his eyes drift shut.

This would all be fine.

It would be back to normal in the morning. 

* * *

Shane was woken up by Ryan’s alarm, which was obnoxious as hell.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and he glanced over to see… Ryan, also sitting up, wearing no shirt.

“Morning, big guy,” said Ryan.

His voice was rough, and his face was scratchy with stubble.

“Hi,” said Shane, and he yawned, stretching.

He’d fallen asleep with his sweater on, and he was still overheating, just a bit. 

“Sleep well?”

“Pretty well,” Shane allowed, and his eye was drawn to the way Ryan was stretching, hands behind his head, back arching.

Ryan’s chest was _built_ \- Shane wasn’t sure why he’d missed that so many times.

He wanted to press closer to him, he wanted to put his hands on Ryan’s pecs, sink his teeth into one of Ryan’s shoulders.

… and Shane’s cock was waking up after all.

_Really_?

“You can have the bathroom first,” Shane said. “I’ll take second shower.”

“I showered last night, remember?”

Shane made eye contact with Ryan, then broke it quickly, because Ryan was smirking.

Oh god.

Ryan knew. 

Ryan knew, and he wasn’t… “no homo”-ing it? 

… huh.

Although Shane wasn’t… going to poke this just yet.

He stood up, his hands shoved into his sweater, and then he was making his way to the bathroom.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just get to showering,” Shane said. 

“Right,” said Ryan.

He was already grabbing his phone, scrolling through it.

… was Shane imagining things, or was one of Ryan’s hands moving rhythmically under the blanket?

Nah. 

No way.

He closed the door behind him, and he shucked his clothes off, then turned on the water.

He was just sexually frustrated. 

This kinda shit just… happened sometimes.

It was normal.

Totally normal. 

* * *

Shane jerked off in the shower, his back against the cold tile, as he fucked his fist.

He remembered the curves and smooth lines of Ryan’s body, and he tried to imagine touching it with his hands, with his mouth.

The warmth of Ryan’s body against his own, Ryan’s breath against his face.

He pressed two fingers against his lips, trying to imagine the pressure of Ryan’s lips against his own, the ticklish rasp of Ryan’s stubble against his own.

He was fucking his fist, his head tilted back, and his knees were going weak, and then he was just… going weak, panting, as the water pattered down around him. 

He came across his knuckles, still pressing on his lips, and he tilted his head back.

And then he took a step back, coughing and wheezing, because now there was water going up his nose.

Fuck.

He was coughing harder, snorting, even as the post orgasmic twitches left him weak in the knees.

Fuck, he was bad at jerking off while standing up. 

“Shane, are you okay?”

Ryan sounded legitimately worried.

“I’m fine,” Shane called. “Sorry.”

“You sure? You sound like you’re drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Good to know.” 

* * *

Shane came out in boxers, his hair wet, to find Ryan… looking disheveled, still covered by the blanket.

“You okay there?”

“I’m good,” Ryan said, and he was grinning just a bit too wide.

… it smelled faintly like sex in here.

Fuck. 

Did Ryan jerk off?

Oh god.

“Are _you_ okay?”

He was trying not to think about it too hard.

Oh god.

“Yeah,” said Ryan, and he stretched. 

Shane turned around, so that he wouldn’t see… what?

He wasn’t sure. 

Maybe he was just a wuss or… something.

He wasn’t going to think too hard about it. 

He was just going to get dressed. 

This… this was all just projecting.

Projecting, based on all of the desperate need to connect with another human being.

Especially a human being as gorgeous as Ryan.

Oh _fuck_ , he had it bad, didn’t he?

He heard the “click” of the bathroom door closing, and then Shane was alone in the room.

“C’mon, Madej,” Shane said to the room at large. “It’s all in your head. Calm down.” 

He could do this.

He _would_ do this.

He was an adult, he could deal with… whatever this was.

Intense skin hunger, equally intense sexual frustration… whatever.

He’d deal with it.

It would be fine.

Absolutely fine. 

Even in his own head, it sounded a bit like he was making excuses, but fuck it.

If you can’t lie to yourself in your own head, where else can you? 

Still.

Shane was always one to pursue the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it was. 

He’d deal with it.

Just… not yet. 

He’d enjoy his… whatever the fuck it was, for a little while longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +10 to anyone who gets the reference in this fic.

Shane and Ryan ate breakfast.

It was an awkward breakfast. 

Well… it was awkward for Shane.

Ryan didn’t seem to be feeling much awkward, but then again, sometimes it seemed like Ryan was impervious to awkward.

The guy could talk to thin air, or interpret radio static (horrible, rhythmic radio static) into words.

For all that Ryan was an anxious wreck a chunk of the time, he was… very good at people.

Living people, at least.

In the world that there were communicative people who were also dead.

… goddamn was Shane tired.

He’d had trouble sleeping, because… well.

Well. 

He’d seen Ryan naked.

He’d seen Ryan… very naked, and then he’d seen Ryan possibly post-orgasmic, or masturbation, or… whatever.

Or maybe Shane had imagined that. 

He sighed, and he took a slug of coffee.

“You look like a zombie,” said Ryan. 

He was… practically bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Jerk. 

“I’m tired,” Shane said flatly.

“What’s got you so tired?”

Ryan was… making intense eye contact.

It was uncomfortable, and Shane broke it, looking down at his coffee and eggs.

“I never sleep well on these beds,” said Shane. 

He was lying.

He was aware he was lying. 

He had a feeling Ryan knew that he was lying, and Ryan knew that Shane knew that… okay, no.

This was getting too circuitous. 

"And yet you sleep like the dead when we're at a haunted location," said Ryan.

"I do that just to spite you," Shane told Ryan, which startled a bout of wheezing laughter out of Ryan. 

And just like that, things were normal again.

Ryan stretched, arms above his head, his back arching, and felt a familiar stirring in his gut.

Things were _mostly_ normal again.

He just had to act like he always had.

It was a little hard to remember how he "always" had, when he was this tired, and Ryan was just this goddamn pretty.

Shane gave a long, drawn out groan, and he covered his face with both hands, scrubbing at his eyes.

"You okay, big guy?"

Ryan sounded genuinely worried.

"Yeah," said Shane. "I'm just tired." 

"Well," said Ryan, "we can do fun, exciting things today."

"What kinda fun, exciting things?"

"We're gonna be wandering around in an abandoned hospital today," said Ryan, "so I figure maybe we could go to a museum or something? Since we've got some time to kill."

"Right," said Shane, and he yawned, wide enough that his jaw cracked.

"... or maybe you need a nap," said Ryan. 

"Nah," said Shane.

"You sure? I'll tuck you in, if you need it."

Oh _god_.

"No," Shane said, and okay, maybe his voice cracked a little bit, but Ryan could just chock that up to him being tired, right?

"I'll even read you a bedtime tale," Ryan said.

"... bedtime tale? That's a weird turn of phrase."

"Sorry," said Ryan. "I was reading yesterday, left some weird bits of things in my head.” 

"What were you reading?"

"Just some old fables," said Ryan. "You know. Aesop stuff."

"Since when do you read Aesop?"

"... it's calming to read when I'm on the plane," said Ryan, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. 

"That's cute," said Shane, then, "you're cute."

Ryan made eye contact, and there was a Moment.

A moment that full on needed a capital "M."

Um.

"Thanks, big guy," said Ryan.

Shane cleared his throat.

"It's all good."

"How about you get some sleep?"

"Hm?"

"Since you're in such a zombie kinda mood. Why don't you have a nap?"

"What, so you can brag about how you've got better stamina than I do?"

"I wouldn't know your stamina," said Ryan, "but mine is pretty good." 

"I dunno," Shane said.

"What do you not know?"

Ryan made eye contact again, and... yeah, Shane was blushing very hard. 

Oh god.

"A lot of things," said Shane, and he leaned back into his seat, putting his hands behind his head. "Part of learning stuff is knowing you don't know. So a fun, educational day?" 

"You sure make it sound appealing," said Ryan. "I know I love a good educational day."

"Exactly," said Shane, and he grinned, maybe a bit more toothy than he needed to.

Ryan snorted.

"You've got some kind of ulterior motive," he told Shane.

"I dunno what you're talking about," said Shane.

Ryan snorted, and he stretched again, his shirt rising up, and Shane could see a strip of Ryan's belly, and god, but he just wanted to... put his face there.

Right there.

Put his face there, kiss it....

He remembered the shadow of Ryan's hip bones, remembered how soft the skin had looked, even in the dimness of their hotel room.

And he blushed.

Um.

"You okay?"

"You keep asking me that," Shane said, his tone faintly irritable. "Are you that worried about me or something?"

"You keep going weirdly quiet, and staring off into space," Ryan said. "Sorry for caring."

Shane snorted, because wow, that was possibly some of the most passive aggressive bullshit he'd ever heard.

Oh well.

"I'm fine," he told Ryan. "I might have a nap before we head to the location, though."

"You look like you need it," said Ryan, not unkindly.

"We can't all have your boundless energy," Shane said.

"What do you mean, boundless energy? Usually you're the morning person."

"Usually I get more sleep," said Shane. "I had a super uncomfortable mattress, I think. It felt like it was full of rocks."

Ryan snorted. 

"Okay, princess," he said. "You wanna sleep in my bed?"

"What, like trading?"

"Nah. Like we're both in the same bed."

Shane had a split second of panic, and played it off with a slug of coffee.

"Nah," he said. "I'll be fine."

Ryan snorted.

"Shall we?"

"Let us."

Shane finished his coffee, waited for the caffeine to slide through his veins to wake him up.

... it went slowly, but it went. 

* * *

They had a fun day out and about.

Ryan even listened to Shane talk excitedly about historical stuff, as they wandered through a museum.

TJ had left to do his own thing, but they were all going to head back to the hotel around four in the afternoon, so they could head to their location, so they could film.

It was all going to be weird and probably a little creepy, but totally worth it.

Ryan would no doubt piss himself in terror, but what else was new?

Shane tried not to... stare.

He wanted nothing so much as to wrap his arms around Ryan's skin, he wanted to feel Ryan's skin against every bit of his skin, until his skin stopped itching, his skin stopped feeling like it belong to someone else.

He was... he was very detached from his body, wasn't he?

He was a level of skin hungry that made him feel almost like a zombie.

... maybe he needed to go searching for a fuck buddy, or browse tinder.

It wasn't just that he wanted sex, although _god_ did he want sex.

He wanted... he wanted a lot of things.

He wasn't even sure what all of what he wanted was, except that he was some level of lonely, from the very pits of his bones, and he didn't really know how to... stop.

He had an aching, empty longing in his chest that he didn't have the words to explain, and at least some of it was related to how he just wanted to touch someone, but... well, how did you tell a person that?

How did you spell out, explicitly, "I think I'm going to die if I don't get to touch another person, but also I want you to want to touch me of your own free will, so no pressure!"

"Shane?"

Shane had been staring, unseeing, at an Irish elk skeleton, and he blinked, coming back to himself.

"What's up?"

"This guy looks about your size," Ryan said, indicating the giant deer. "You communing with your ancestors or something."

"Very funny," Shane said, his tone dry. "Is that one of yours?"

There was a little pygmy shrew right next to the elk, no doubt to show the scale of the two animals. 

"Let's go look at the hall of marine animals," said Ryan, and then he was grabbing Shane by the hand, and just... pulling him.

Shane was blushing.

Shane was blushing so hard that his ears were probably turning red, but he could keep his cool, right?

Right.

* * *

They went back to their hotel room - Shane bought Ryan a stuffed bear, out of some kind of misguided silliness, or maybe because... well, it was Ryan. 

Shane couldn't resist spoiling Ryan, just a bit. 

Although at least part of it was just to fuck with Ryan. 

Ryan, in retaliation, got him a giraffe plushie.

"See, it's like a cousin of yours!"

Shane snorted, but he kept the giraffe on his bed, when they were getting ready to go on location.

Okay.

This was a total normal shoot.

Shane... did his best not to stare, as Ryan chucked his shirt off, stood in their hotel room topless, rooting around in his suitcase.

"Hey, Shane?"

"Mm?"

Shane was sitting on his bed, fully dressed, just... watching the muscles of Ryan's back as Ryan kept fiddling.

"Can I borrow a shirt?"

"You want to borrow one of _my_ shirts?"

"Yeah," said Ryan.

"Are you sure it'll, uh... fit you?"

"You've got a small torso. You're just all leg, remember?"

"I was talking about your, uh... your shoulders. You've bulked out, so you're... that is.... sure. Sure, you can borrow a shirt."

Ryan turned around, and he was looking at Shane with an almost critical eye.

"You okay, big guy?"

"I'm fine," Shane said for the umpteenth time, and it was his turn to turn around and dig through his suitcase.

* * *

They had their shoot.

It was fucking dusty, and Ryan was a zombie when they got back to the motel.

He was also looking worried.

"What's up, Ry?"

"You've been shooting me looks. it makes me worried."

"What are you worried about?"

"If you're... mad at me," said Ryan, and there was something in his tone that Shane couldn't exactly pick up on. 

“I’m not… I’m not mad at you,” said Shane, because that was true.

He wasn’t.

“Are you sure?”

“I’d know, wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno,” said Ryan. “You tend to be a bit… separate.” 

“Separate?”

“Distant,” Ryan said.

“So why’d you say separate?”

“Because I’m tired, Shane, and something grabbed me,” said Ryan, and he sounded grumpy.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Shane, and he reached out, patting Ryan on the arm.

He tried not to think of how warm Ryan was, how soft Ryan’s skin was.

Oh god.

He hadn’t been this… glandular since he was a kid.

Fuck.

“So you agree that something grabbed me?”

“No, I’m agreeing that you’re tired, and that you’re spooked,” said Shane. 

“Something _did_ grab me,” Ryan said, and of course, he was digging his heels in.

“You’re such an asshole, Ryan,” Shane said. 

“We spend a lot of time around each other,” said Ryan. “I’m just learning from you, I think.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m teaching you,” Shane said, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arm around Ryan’s shoulders.

His shirt was going to smell like Ryan.

Probably a little sweaty, which wasn’t necessarily a bad smell - Ryan was a healthy guy, and he ate right.

Although if he was thinking about how Ryan would smell, he was just… oh god.

“You’re staring into the distance again, Shane,” said Ryan. “Maybe you don’t need any beer.”

“Nah,” said Shane, and he leaned over, grabbing a beer from the six pack they had picked up and giving it to Ryan, then grabbing his own. “I need some refreshment after all of that stupidity.”

“You think I was stupid?”

Ryan had moved over to his own bed, and but there was barely any space between the two beds - their knees were almost touching.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Shane said, in what he hoped was a soothing tone of voice.

God, the light from the lamp on the end table was catching Ryan’s face, his nose shadowing across his cheek, the brightness gilding one eyebrow.

He could have been a saint in some painting.

Shane gave a deep, gusty sigh, and then he took a swig of his beer.

“So why was it talking about razors?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Ryan said. “Maybe it was… talking about a metaphor?”

“Since when do ghosts speak in metaphor?”

The beer wasn’t too good.

It was a local beer, but it wasn’t too skunky, at least.

The fizz was already going up towards his head, leaving him a little blurry on the edges.

He took his glasses off, and he leaned over, putting them on the end table.

“I don’t know,” said Ryan. “It’s nice to… y’know, be good at this shit.”

“Be good?”

“Well… you know. Perform on camera. Even if it’s not a performance… exactly.”

“Mm?”

Ryan was drinking his beer, and he looked thoughtful, and a bit embarrassed.

… huh.

“I’m… I used to not like people looking at me,” said Ryan.

Shane nodded, remembering their makeover. 

“But… I dunno. I’m kinda warming up to it.”

And then he flexed a bicep, with bulged, no doubt stretching out the arm of Shane’s shirt.

Shane’s heart beat a little faster, and he blushed.

He took another swig, for lack of anything else to do.

“Do you think I… look good?”

_I want to touch every inch of you, including the bits you can’t even see_ , was on the very edge of Shane’s tongue.

“You look good,” Shane said, and his words felt strangely heavy.

“I’m glad.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I don’t want to come off as, like… vain,” said Ryan, and then he laughed, clearly self conscious, but also practically… giddy. “I want… I don’t know. Forget it.”

“Nah, keep talking,” said Shane. “I’m listening.”

“And judging,” said Ryan, and he burst out laughing - full on _giggling_ , which was what he always got like when he was even a little tipsy.

God, he was adorable.

Shane was grinning, and he couldn’t seem to stop. 

“I’m not judging,” said Shane. “I promise. If I looked as good as you, after… you know, all the work you put into looking good.”

Ryan deflated a bit.

“But also, you’re, uh… you look great. You looked great. Before.”

“Before?”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, before you started to get all bulked out,” said Shane.

_Dig up,_ the back of his brain said. 

Ryan kept looking at him.

Shane, very aware that he seemed to be chewing on his own kneecap at this point, took another swig of his beer, and then made a face - he’d killed it. 

He crushed the can in one hand, and reached for the next can. 

“So you think I’m good looking?”

“Of course I think you’re good looking,” said Shane. 

“I’m not gonna… assume,” Ryan mumbled, and now he was blushing, just a bit. “I can’t think that everyone thinks I’m good looking or attractive.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno, do you think that everyone thinks that _you’re_ good looking?”

“Well, no,” said Shane. “Obviously not. And… not in a fishing for compliments sort of way.”

Ryan looked skeptical. 

“I’m… less universally appealing than you are,” said Shane. 

“Plenty of dudes like long and lanky people.”

“Dudes?”

“Switch that,” said Ryan, and he finished his beer. “I think the beer is getting to my head.”

“I don’t know if there are any dudes who would be interested in me,” Shane said, and his tone was borderline wistful.

“Would you want ‘em to?”

Shane… couldn’t read Ryan’s face.

“I’d… I mean, if I liked them, sure. Or I guess, if they didn’t make them being attracted to me a thing that I had to deal with. As long as their feelings were their feelings and not a thing for me to deal with.”

“So you wouldn’t want to… like, be involved with a dude?”

Yeah, Ryan’s face was most definitely doing something.

Shane was a bit too tired to figure out what it was.

“It would depend on the dude,” Shane said. “I don’t want to give a blanket agreement for a dude to be interested in me, but I wouldn’t want to give a blanket agreement for a lady to be interested in me. Or someone else, I guess.”

“Oh,” said Ryan. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“That _is_ my job,” Shane reminded Ryan. “You’re the one who jumps at the shadows, I’m the one who makes sense.”

Ryan snorted, and he took a new beer. 

“We should order some actual food,” said Shane. “Or we are gonna wake up with a really killer headache.”

“Yeah,” said Ryan, and he flopped back onto the bed.

His shirt was still riding up, and Shane could see the thin hair, going down Ryan’s belly, towards the waistband of his pants.

Shane’s heart was beating very loudly in his ears, and his cock was hard in his jeans. 

It was… it was harder than it should have been, considering the booze he’d been drinking.

Brewers droop had nothing on this kind of… wanting.

He sighed.

“That was baleful.”

“I’m full of hay, man,” said Shane, and he stood up, only wobbling a little bit.

… yeah, he was definitely feeling the beer. 

He grabbed the room service menu from the desk, and he paged through it. 

“You wanna order room service?”

“I sure as fuck don’t want to actually go out and get food,” said Ryan. 

“Fair enough,” said Shane. “What do you want?”

“You know what I like,” said Ryan. “Order that?”

“Right,” said Shane, although his mouth was strangely dry.

He swallowed, and his throat clicked.

… goddamn it, he did not need to be having all of these feelings, all at the same time.

Especially not towards his best friend.

This just… made everything too goddamn complicated.

Why couldn’t life be simpler?

“Shane,” Ryan said. “You’re spacing out again.”

“Beer,” Shane said, and then he was calling room service. 

He could do this.

When he got home, he’d… he’d be normal.

He’d do normal stuff. 

He might jerk off a lot, maybe look into going on a few dates.

He’d get over his skin hunger, and he’d go back to being completely normal.

* * *

They ate their dinner.

Ryan put some old movie on, and they watched it, snarking and drinking.

Ryan sat next to Shane on the bed, eating his dinner from a plate in his lap, and he watched the movie, as they sat thigh to thigh.

Shane was acutely aware of the warmth of Ryan’s skin, and of the way Ryan was almost lolling back against the pillows.

He was, most definitely, drunk.

How was Ryan already drunk?

Then again, he was a short guy.

“You’re a good guy, Shane,” Ryan said, when there was a lull. 

“I do my best,” Shane said. 

“But your bed isn’t lumpy. You were full of shit when you said that.”

Shane snorted.

“We’re just not under the covers,” he told Ryan.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan said, but he looked unconvinced.

Shane ate his dinner, trying not to make a mess, trying not to be too fucking awkward.

Trying to ignore his boner.

He was too fucking old for this shit.

* * *

Ryan went to bed when the movie was over. 

He slept, sprawled out on the bed, covers kicked off, and Shane took the opportunity to just… look.

He let his eyes run across the long, elegant line of Ryan’s legs, of the knobs of Ryan’s spine, of the curve of Ryan’s ass. 

It was… well, it fit well in his pajama pants.

God, Shane just… wanted to grab a handful of it, he wanted to hold Ryan’s ass open and slide his cock in, sweet and deep and... _fuck_.

Shane shuddered, and he squeezed his cock through his own pajamas. 

He’d tried not to stare, when Ryan had changed, but Ryan had just… dropped trou, right in the middle of the hotel room.

Maybe it was related to being drunk.

Drunk Ryan had some odd boundaries. 

Or maybe he was just… kind of drunk.

But now….

Now, Ryan was just… lying there, and Shane was far too human.

He lay back on the bed, turning lights out, and he slid a hand down the front of his pants.

Ryan wouldn’t find out, right?

Shane sighed, stroking his cock under the blankets, and it was… it was so good, it was so much better than it had a right to be.

Except Ryan was waking up, and Shane yanked his hand out of his pants.

_Fuck_.

What was he thinking?

“What happened?”

Ryan’s voice was sleepy.

“You fell asleep,” said Shane. “Figured it was time to go to bed.”

“Right,” said Ryan. “You’re right.”

And then Ryan was stumbling towards the bathroom, presumably to go brush his teeth, and Shane rolled onto his side, so that he wouldn’t be thinking about it.

God, he was so hard, he wanted… he didn’t know what he wanted.

He wanted _everything_.

He wanted to fuck Ryan, he wanted to be fucked by Ryan, he wanted to kiss Ryan, he wanted… he wanted the warmth of another human being against him, he wanted to feel someone else’s breath, the weight of someone else’s muscle and bones.

And then he fell asleep, and maybe he was holding on to the giraffe plushie, but… nobody had to know that.

* * *

Shane was woken up at some grey time, his head full of dark sleep.

He was woken up by a moan.

It was… it was a pretty heartfelt moaning, and Shane’s cock was already hard, leaking down his shaft, leaving a wet spot in his pajamas.

He rolled over, as slowly as possible, as carefully as possible, and... fuck.

_Fuck_.

Ryan was… Ryan was sitting up, and he had his pajama pants down around his knees.

Ryan was milking his cock, and he was moaning.

Oh fuck, Shane… Shane wanted to get out of bed, right there and then, wanted to climb into bed with Ryan.

Wanted to suck Ryan’s cock, wanted to jerk Ryan’s cock off, wanted… god, he wanted everything.

It was dark enough that he couldn’t see much - he could see the motion of it, he could see… he could see Ryan’s body language changing, the shift of the sound, the wet, skin on skin sound….

Shane was stroking his own cock.

He was stroking his cock, and he was trying to time his strokes in time with Ryan’s, even if he didn’t entirely know it entirely, as he bit his lip to keep from moaning, as he just… watched.

What if the lights were on?

What if he could watch it?

Shane pressed his hand against his mouth, and he kept stroking his cock, a little faster now, to match Ryan’s own faster stroking, and Shane was biting his lip. 

Ryan was gasping, panting, making… well, making a lot of noise.

He was flat on his back, and he was just… fucking his fist, his hips rolling up and off the bed.

Oh god.

Fuck.

Ryan must have looked wrecked - the light from outside was just enough to catch some highlights off of Ryan’s skin, and... fuck, he was just so fucking gorgeous. 

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was fair.

Ryan gave a gasping, sobbing sort of noise, and then he was cumming all over his belly - Shane could tell, from the sounds, and the way Ryan was panting.

… which led to a new problem.

Shane couldn’t time his stroking to Ryan’s, and Ryan had been jerking off longer, so Shane… god, he needed to cum.

He should have gotten up to go to the bathroom, rubbed one out quickly, but… fuck.

He couldn’t move.

He just… he was still stroking himself, and he had his other hand pressing into his mouth, and god, imagine kissing Ryan, holding Ryan against him, rutting up against Ryan.

Imagine… imagine Ryan on top of him, imagine fucking into his thighs, imagine fucking into Ryan’s _ass_ , and then… oh… fuck.

Shane came, in a gush of wetness and pleasure, and he let out a little gasp around his fingers.

If they had been filming, Ryan would have used it as proof of a ghost, and that was enough to make Shane snicker, and then there was a noise from the other bed, and Shane froze.

“Shane?”

Ryan was up on one elbow, blocking out the light from under the door in the hallway. 

“Mmm?”

Shane tried to sound like he was waking up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Shane. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“That’s good,” said Ryan. “Fine is good.” 

The awkward was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Shane’s cum was already drying on his hand and his belly, and he… he stayed still, let the sweetness wash over him. 

“Night, big guy,” said Ryan, and Shane closed his eyes, and tried to imagine what it would feel like to reach out and take Ryan’s hand. 

He’d be fine.

He totally would. 

Absolutely fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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